


unprotected + bare

by ghostwit



Category: One Piece
Genre: Back onmy shit :|, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hand-holding is the highest intimacy Fuck with me., Law is like. some typa arospec but I don't really get into that like crazy., M/M, Sharing a Bed, non-specificied timeline but like. It's not AU or anything.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwit/pseuds/ghostwit
Summary: "Hmm," Sanji tucks his chin over Law's bare shoulder, lets his beard rasp gently over the smooth slope connecting to his neck as he lifts a leg to hitch it over Law's hips, "I love you."
Relationships: Implied Lawlu because you know how I am but like. not a lot., Trafalgar D. Water Law/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85





	unprotected + bare

"Hmm," Sanji tucks his chin over Law's bare shoulder, lets his beard rasp gently over the smooth slope connecting to his neck as he lifts a leg to hitch it over Law's hips, "I love you." 

Law stiffens under the attention for a split second before relaxing, leaning over to fold his arms beneath himself for warmth (the both of them run cold--unfortunate for North Blue natives). "Just like that?" he asks, huffing a breathless laugh and drawing his arms in  _ just _ that much more tightly. He thinks of his captain, sunshine made solid--and bouncy!--the easy smiles and jostling shoulders that characterize the Strawhat Pirates. 

"Mmm, yeah," Sanji smiles, breathing deep and slow. "Just like that." His nose meets where his chin used to rest so he can press a close-mouthed kiss into the severe jut of Law's shoulder blade. 

"That's your mistake, Kuroashi-ya," Law mutters, earning himself a quiet bark of laughter and the sharp touch of teeth closing around his earlobe, right below where his earrings sit. Law retaliates, pressing a cold sole into one of Sanji's iron calves, stifling his own laughter. 

"Shh, shh," he's sputtering, nosing against Law's back and drumming the fingers of the hand draped over Law's chest over the ridges of his abdomen. "I'm tired," he mutters, barely audible when it's smothered against Law's skin. 

This admission is shocking to Law. Not the sentiment, no, the cook of the Strawhats is ever busy and unrelentingly quick in every facet, mind and body, but that the man managed to vocalize it for Law. He’s always so steadfast, well practiced in the art of--not facade, but something else, like the passing of a window over a static scene in which all parts exist at once, but only some can be revealed at any given time--never, as far as Law’s observed, does he dare to worry people with paltry things like his exhaustion. 

Something about that settles like a stone in Law's core, makes him curl his legs up and reach one of the arms he's got tucked under himself  _ just  _ so to knit his fingers with Sanji's (with an irritated grunt, of course, he is still Trafalgar Law after all). 

Sanji smiles at his back, giving their joined fingers a squeeze. “Goodnight,” he mutters, pretty, blonde lashes fluttering. Law lets himself stew before joining his companion in sleep, made a few degrees easier by the warm-enough body (bad thought, bad thought, chills down his spine and suffocating nausea with the scent of rot) at his back. 

Law hums quiet as the tide of sleep washes up over him. “Thank you,” he murmurs, lets himself be pulled under. 

Sanji wakes before him, careful when he shifts to peer down over his face, curling his abdomen over the other’s. Law’s eyebrow gives a twitch at the motion, otherwise undisturbed. He contemplates leaning over, pressing a kiss to that dark eyebrow, and decides against it. 

The doctor looks peaceful in sleep, different from the sedate indifference he seems to adopt in his day-to-day. Different, too, from the thrumming jubilance his captain seems to bring from him, an energy that calls usually lacking emotion to the surface in the form of laughter and grumbling yells. 

It’s a neutral kind of peace, handsome face lax where it’s usually so schooled and stern. He smiles, breathes in deep, and settles against his back again. 

**Author's Note:**

> All I care about is post-TS Sanji being, like, happy and easy and affectionate and COMFORTABLE. Ough. 
> 
> Been a while since I wrote something short, too, just didn't want to end up bloating this lawl. My mental word count minimum has shifted from 500 to 1k recently and like. I'm not pleased with it. Gotta come back to Earth, lawl. 
> 
> Leave a comment/concrit/anything if you're up for it, I'd really appreciate it.
> 
> hazeism.tumblr.com


End file.
